


By the Shores of Muspelheimr

by LokiOfSassgaard



Series: Loki Annoys the Marvel Universe [7]
Category: Marvel, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Reality, Anal Sex, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Hair Pulling, Hand Jobs, Jötunn Loki, M/M, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, frost giants have knotted cocks, make-up sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 07:28:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokiOfSassgaard/pseuds/LokiOfSassgaard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki and Fandral get stuck on Muspelheimr, and choose this, of all times, to resolve an old feud.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By the Shores of Muspelheimr

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during Those Who Hunt Monsters, after Loki and Thor go to Niflheimr, but before Jötunheimr.

It wasn’t that the others had left them behind in a hostile realm, or that they couldn’t get enough distance between themselves and their pursuers to allow Heimdall to open the Bifröst safely. It wasn’t even that in the hustle of it all, Fandral had lost his sword, and Loki had exhausted all of his throwing knives. No, when it came down to it, the true inconvenience of the whole thing was that of all the warriors on Asgard, they had to get stuck with one another.

“Couldn’t you just magic us back to Asgard?” Fandral demanded breathlessly as they vaulted over a deep crack in the ground, landing heavily in the black sand on the other side.

“Oh, now you want my magic!” Loki said. “No, I don’t think I shall.” If he kicked sand at Fandral as he got to his feet and started running again, he wasn’t the least bit sorry for it.

Fandral dared to shoot a glance over his shoulder. They’d circled the small island thrice yet, but the fire demons behind them still refused to tire and give up chase. If anything, they were growing closer to their quarry.

“You can, but you won’t? Why?” Fandral demanded.

Loki dropped in a controlled stumble, slowing just enough to pick up a stone from the ground. It was the same stone he’d picked up last time, and just like last time, he turned and threw it behind him. He hit his target, right between the eyes, and grinned at the splash of dark blood that erupted from the demon’s nose.

“You made your thoughts on magic perfectly clear. I wouldn’t want to offend your delicate sensibilities.” He grinned widely at Fandral, and ducked the punch thrown at his face.

“That was three years ago!” Fandral shouted. Though, he wasn’t exactly surprised at Loki’s reasoning. Loki could hold onto a grudge until Yggdrasil herself was nothing more than ashes. “Take us home.”

Rather than answering him, Loki pointed off away from the coast, where blackened sand met boiling seas. They’d passed it before, but hadn’t seen it — a crack in the high stone face just large enough for two slender Asgardians to fit through. The two of them veered off wildly toward it, their pursuers momentarily confused by the sudden change in what had hitherto been a very constant direction. Fandral slipped into the crack first, followed very closely by Loki diving in feet-first. The crack turned out to be the mouth of a shallow cave with just enough room for the two of them to stand side by side. Not that they were so inclined to, and had instead gathered as closely together as they could at the back of the cave while the fire demons scratched and clawed at the mouth of the cave.

“Asgardian whelps! I’ll tear your flesh from your bones!” the demon with the bloodied nose shouted.

Loki picked up another stone and threw it at him, once more hitting the demon in the centre of his face.

“I think we’ll stay in here, thanks,” he said.

Fandral punched him on the shoulder. “Yes, we’ll have to, won’t we? You have to see the sky to summon the Bifröst.”

Loki looked up at the solid stone above them. “They’ll go away eventually,” he reasoned.

One of the other demons laughed. “Die in there or die out here. Makes no difference to me.”

Loki bent to pick up another stone, but Fandral stayed his hand. “Take us home,” he demanded.

“Don’t be angry at me. Thor’s the one who left us here.” Loki sat down on the ground, leaning lazily against the smooth wall behind him.

“You told him to!” Fandral kicked him in the thigh, but Loki ignored it and shrugged.

“I didn’t think he’d actually do it,” he said.

Fandral kicked him again, only to be met with a sharp punch to his own thigh.

“Do not strike me again,” Loki said, all jest gone from his voice. 

Again, Fandral moved to kick him, but Loki was quicker and grabbed him by the ankle. He tried to pull Fandral off balance, but the size of the cave gave Fandral plenty of leverage to stay upright. He kicked even harder, freeing himself from Loki’s grip and planting his foot squarely on Loki’s chest. With barely any warning at all, Loki sprang up and tackled Fandral, using his full weight to drag them both back to the ground.

“Get off of me!” Fandral shouted, trying to push Loki off.

“You lied to me!” Loki shouted back, having no intention in the least of getting off of Fandral.

“You’re not bringing that up now?” Fandral demanded. He couldn’t push Loki off of him, so he locked his legs around Loki’s and tried to roll him over. It was difficult in the small space, and for all his weed-like appearance, Loki was far stronger than he looked. He fought back against Fandral, kicking with his heels and lashing out with his fist. Most of the blows he landed were only glancing, sliding off the curves of Fandral’s armour, but every so often, he’d hit exposed flesh or unarmoured linens. Those, Fandral knew, would leave bruises.

“Bor’s bollocks, stop it!” Fandral growled. He twisted and turned, eventually pinning Loki on his back. With Loki stuck beneath him, Fandral took him by the wrists and held his arms down against the ground.

Loki glared up at him, his eyes burning bright even in the dark cave. He tried to ignore the familiar weight on top of him, focusing only on the betrayal.

“You lied to me,” he repeated.

Fandral snorted at him. “Oh, yes. And you’re so innocent in that department.”

“Oh, I see. It’s all right when you do it, but not when I do,” Loki said. He jerked both his hands back, but Fandral held fast, pressing himself down even more to keep Loki pinned. 

“Oh, for—” He stopped short, glancing quickly at where their bodies were pressed together. He was fairly certain he knew what was pressed against his stomach, but he didn’t dare get up to check, just in case Loki started punching him again.

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself,” Loki said, looking away to dodge Fandral’s gaze.

“You humiliated me,” he said. 

“You humiliated me first,” Loki said, his voice completely neutral now.

“In front of everyone. All our friends,” Fandral amended. He gripped tighter on Loki’s wrists, trying to get him to meet him in the eye, but Loki refused. “How much time did you spend on that little trick of yours, Loki?”

“How much time did you spend with… what’s his name?” Loki asked, shrugging awkwardly.

Fandral let go of Loki’s wrists and levered himself up. He still kept Loki pinned down, but not so that Loki couldn’t get away if he wanted to. “Which one?” he asked.

Loki snorted and shook his head. “Oh yes. There were so many, weren’t there? Where to even start?”

Fandral looked down between them again, letting his gaze linger this time.

“Why not where we left off?” he suggested.

“As if I’d lower myself to your level,” Loki said. He glanced back at Fandral, just catching the hint of a smirk in the light coming in from the mouth of the cave.

Before Loki could object, Fandral’s fingers had moved to the laces on Loki’s breeches, untying them as if he’d never lost the habit of it. And Loki almost let him, before coming to his senses.

“No, Fandral. No,” he said, staying Fandral’s hands with his own. “Stop.”

Fandral did, and looked up at him in confusion. “I’m trying to apologise,” he said.

“Yes, I know,” Loki said stiffly. He shifted beneath Fandral’s weight, craning to look at the mouth of the cave behind him. “But there are three fire demons waiting to kill us outside, and this is not the most comfortable place for it besides.”

Fandral looked up to the mouth of the cave and the harsh light outside. “Oh, so now you’re willing to magic us home?” he asked.

Loki shrugged lazily. “If you’d rather I not…”

Rolling his eyes, Fandral gripped hold of Loki tightly. “Get it over with.” He buried his face against Loki’s neck, barely noticing when Loki put his hands on his shoulders.

“Hold on tight.” Loki’s hands gripped tightly for the briefest moment before everything went dark and cold, punctuated by an acute feeling of absolute nothingness. A second later, the weight of the world bore down on the both as they fell down onto something soft and cool.

Fandral rolled off of him, knowing there would be plenty of room on the bed that was far too large even for a prince of Asgard. He covered his face with both hands and breathed deeply, trying to get rid of the feeling that the world was spinning out of control around him. He could hear Loki shifting on the pile of furs, pulling off his armour and throwing it over the low bookcase that was pushed up against the side of the bed.

“You were saying?” Loki asked smugly.

Fandral looked up at Loki, stretched out in just his breeches, with his hands clasped behind his head. Somewhere along the line, while Fandral wasn’t looking, Loki had changed himself to get more comfortable, with the black furs around him making his blue skin seem unusually bright. The heavy blue lines that marked his skin were broken up by the scars on his chest — the scars he came home from Niflheimr with, from when he and Thor had left right after the hunt. Fandral had seen them before, long and deep across his chest, cutting from his left shoulder down to his right side, but only ever with Loki wearing his Asgardian skin. They were impressive then, but only a shade of what they were on Loki’s true skin. Without healing stones or any of Eir’s magic, the wounds healed messily, breaking up the raised lines and mangling his flesh. Without even realising he was doing it, Fandral reached out to run the tips of his fingers along the longest scar, tracing its path along Loki’s chest.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” Fandral said, a cheeky grin touching his mouth. “It’s a very dirty trick.”

Loki grinned in return and leaned back against his pillows. “I expect one Hel of an apology.” It may have been a dirty trick, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Fandral pushed himself up to get closer to Loki, his blond whiskers barely tickling against Loki’s skin. He waited just long enough for Loki to get the wrong idea, before raking his teeth against one of the lines that ran down his stomach. Loki jerked his head forward in surprise, only to immediately fall back, gaping wide-eyed at the ceiling.

“And you have a go at me about dirty tricks,” he said.

Fandral smiled against Loki’s skin, having forgotten how much he enjoyed seeing Loki come so undone over the lightest of touches. “There’s plenty more where that came from,” he assured him.

He moved down the length of Loki’s body, using his teeth on one side and his nails on the other, tracing both sets of lines as he worked his way down. Loki bit back on the more embarrassing sounds he couldn’t help but make, but Fandral heard them all the same. He stopped at Loki’s waistband, where the sparse hair that ran up his stomach started to thicken. Fandral looked up at Loki as he regained himself. He had often wondered how long Loki could endure being teased in just that way, but had never dared try it while they were still on friendly terms, and didn’t dare now while the possibility of rekindling that friendship was in sight.

Loki hardly moved from where he lie, eyes still fixed on the ceiling, with his dark hair a mess around his face. It was good to know that the same old tricks still worked with him.

Fandral slowly unlaced Loki’s breeches, taking far more time than necessary. With each flourished movement, he barely brushed his fingers against the hardness contained beneath the leather. Loki’s stomach tensed, his muscles almost out of control, and he let out a stuttering half-chuckle.

“Have you always been this obnoxious? I think I’d remember it,” he said.

“This is how you treat a man trying to apologise to you?” asked Fandral, barely looking up at him.

“This is how I treat a man trying to torture me.” Loki reached down to unlace his breeches himself, but Fandral slapped his hands away. 

He laughed quietly, still taking his time with the laces. With one final, wide gesture, he pulled the laces loose enough to open the front of Loki’s breeches. His cock barely needed to be pulled free, already stiff against his stomach, standing up ever so slightly. More than just the colour of Loki’s skin changed when he dropped his Asgardian glamour, and Fandral still found everything fascinating. It had been years since he had done anything of this sort with Loki, but he still knew there were some things Loki simply would not allow while he was in this form. He said it was because he did not wish to hurt Fandral, and Fandral for his part went along with that explanation. 

If the room were any darker, or if Fandral didn’t already know what to look for, Loki might have appeared to be Æsir. But Æsir men did not come with hard, round bumps down their shafts. Rows of them, all around, and from the base all the way up to just before the head. Fandral ran his thumb up the underside of Loki’s cock, slowly dragging his skin over the row there. He had never understood why they were there, or if there was even a why at all, but he was still fascinated by how different they were. He looked up at Loki biting his lip as he tried to keep his composure under Fandral’s attention. 

Those sensitive lines didn’t quite reach Loki’s cock, stopping just at the base before blending into his skin. Fandral buried his fingers in that short hair there, dragging his nails against Loki’s skin and smirking to himself as Loki’s hips bucked forward. He did it again, this time bringing his mouth down to the base of Loki’s cock, not quite nipping at him as he dragged his tongue and lips over him. Already, he could feel Loki swelling beneath his touch, little though it was.

“Are you sure you want to do it this way?” Fandral asked, resting his face against the inside of Loki’s thigh.

Loki let out a high, uncertain whine. “Too late now,” he said. “Thought I might…” He clenched his jaw and arched his back, pushing against Fandral and seeking out more contact than he was getting. 

Fandral laughed quietly and raked his nails against Loki’s skin again, feeling the edges of his lines, smooth against rough skin.

“Thought you might make me stay down here for the next three hours?” he asked.

“Didn’t think it through,” Loki admitted with a heavy thread of desperation to his voice.

Fandral laughed again. “All right. I’ll do what I can.”

He remembered Loki’s rules about this as well. How could he possibly forget? For all Loki embraced his Jötunn heritage, he still thought of himself as Asgardian. And this was one thing about him that was decidedly not Asgardian.

He didn’t take Loki in his mouth; never on the first time. Not entirely, anyway. He stayed where he was, licking and sucking along his length, while he used his fingers to tease at the tip and foreskin. He pinched and pulled, dragging his thumb over the head and across the slit, slicked already with precum. Fandral could feel that hard knot expanding under his tongue as he continued to work his mouth up and down Loki’s length. Above him, Loki was all but whimpering, already lost to the delirious madness sex in this form always drove him to. 

Fandral moved his hand down from Loki’s stomach and pressed his knuckles into the space just behind Loki’s balls, moving them in a slow back-and-forth motion.

Loki pressed his head against the pillows and arched himself against Fandral’s touch, straining every muscle in his back to do so. It was agony, and Loki wanted it to stop, but at the same time, he wanted it to go on forever. And then Fandral’s teeth were on his knot, sharp without being painful, and Loki could feel himself unravelling at the seams. The only warning Fandral got was a strangled cry as Loki covered his face with his hand. He thrust against Fandral as he climaxed, spilling his seed on Fandral’s hand and in his hair.

Chuckling, Fandral pulled away so he wasn’t touching Loki at all, not even where there were still layers of clothing between them.

“Tell me,” he said.

Panting hard, Loki shook his head. He made a sound that could have been a laugh, but it was hard to tell. Fandral sat back on his heels and watched him slowly come back to himself enough to form coherent words. He was hard inside his own trousers, but all his attention was still on Loki. In this state, Loki would climax as many times as Fandral wanted, and a few times more after that — he had more than enough time to take care of his own needs before Loki would be bored with him.

“Or shall I take my own initiative?” asked Fandral.

Loki inhaled, like he was about to say something, but only waved his hand at Fandral. Fandral wasn’t sure what it meant, but he chose to take it as an affirmative response to his question. With no danger of getting caught up in the moment and getting embarrassingly stuck, there was more freedom to do as he pleased. This time, Fandral took all he could of Loki in his mouth, running his tongue along the row of hard bumps down the underside of the shaft. Loki cried out again, one hand covering his face while the other scrabbled for purchase amongst the furs on the bed. 

Fandral snaked two of his fingers behind Loki’s knot, seeking out what he knew to be an especially sensitive area and pushing against it. It was but a matter of moments before it brought Loki to climax again, and he thrust into Fandral’s mouth, practically fucking him as he spilled once more. It caught Fandral by surprise, and he coughed against it, but maintained most of his rhythm. Had his mouth been free to do so, he might have mentioned that he’d forgotten all about Loki’s hair-trigger. But Loki wouldn’t have heard it anyway, so it hardly mattered.

With his fingers still behind Loki’s knot, Fandral gave it a sharp tug, and then again, and again. Anticipating it this time, he pulled away just in time to avoid being choked by Loki’s third climax. He sat back again, taking away all contact between them and watched as Loki panted trembled before him. Loki dragged his hand down his face and looked around slowly, eventually finding Fandral. Finding the sight too much to ignore, Fandral leaned over Loki, holding himself up with his hands so they barely touched. They stayed that way for a few moments, Loki smiling lazily up at him.

“What do you say we take off those trousers?” Fandral asked.

Loki slowly looked down, as if only just noticing what was around him. He didn’t move at first, giving the whole situation a vaguely-confused look until finally he moved his hand down to his waistband. Fandral watched him flicking at his breeches uselessly, not making any real attempt to get them off. He couldn’t help but laugh at the sight.

“I suppose that’s up to me as well, is it?” he asked.

“Yes,” Loki agreed. “I’ve forgotten how the work.” The tricky little smile on his face suggested otherwise, but Fandral was in the mood to indulge him.

He sat up again, taking Loki’s breeches by the waistband and pulling them down, thankful that Loki was not in such an obnoxious mood that he was at least helping by lifting himself off the bed as much as possible. Fandral couldn’t help but notice as he slid the breeches down Loki’s long legs that the leather would be well and truly ruined, but it wouldn’t exactly be the first pair they’d destroyed. He tossed them off the bed toward the sofas along the near wall, before starting to work on his own clothing.

Loki leaned back again, watching Fandral as he undressed. Without even realising he was doing it, he brought one hand down around his own cock, running his fingertips in wide circles around the knot, occasionally trailing lines up the shaft, and back down again. Fandral undressed quickly until he caught Loki’s gaze him him, and slowed down at once. He pulled his tunic over his head and casually tossed it aside, letting his eyes drag down Loki’s body. 

When Fandral’s hands made it down to his own trousers, Loki bit down hard on his lip and turned his head up toward the ceiling again.

“You tease,” he chastised, barely able to control his own voice. His breath catching in his throat, he spilled over his own hand, not even caring about the sticky mess he made in his furs.

By the time he opened his eyes again, Fandral was leaning back over him with a sly grin hidden behind his beard. Before Loki even had the chance to realise what was happening, he was rolled over onto his stomach in a single motion. The new position wasn’t entirely unpleasant. He rubbed himself against the furs, pushing into the soft mattress. Ordinarily, it wouldn’t have done much, if anything, for him at all, but he felt as if all his nerves were on fire, and any pressure, any friction went straight through him.

“You are such a mess,” Fandral said from behind him with a chuckle in his voice. 

“Don’t care,” Loki said.

He realised exactly what it was Fandral meant when he felt a strong hand between his legs, smearing his own fluids over his opening. Fandral moved Loki where he wanted him, pulling his hips up and holding him in place. He gave no warning at all before he pushed himself in, moving slowly and deliberately. Loki cried out, his arms giving out from under him completely. He fell against the bed, Fandral still keeping a tight hold on his hips.

“I will bend you right over your bookcase,” Fandral threatened.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Loki shook his head, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop Fandral from doing anything he wanted. 

“You talk too much, Loki,” Fandral said. Before Loki could respond, Fandral thrust into him, replacing any words Loki might have said with a desperate cry. 

Fandral found his rhythm, snaking one arm across Loki’s chest, and keeping the other hand on his hips. He pulled Loki back each time he thrust into him, feeling him go more and more boneless with each passing second. Loki’s noises grew more and more needy until he was almost begging. There were no words on his tongue, but he didn’t need them. His want was clear.

The hand Fandral kept on Loki’s hip moved down to take Loki’s cock. He teased and stroked, matching his own pace as he drove into Loki. Loki climaxed almost immediately, spilling hot seed over Fandral’s hand and down between his legs with a loud cry. Fandral tugged on Loki’s knot again, not sure if he’d brought about a new climax, or if it was the same one still going.

He leaned away, resting his weight on his knees to free his hand around Loki’s chest. It slowed his rhythm, but allowed him to take a handful of Loki’s hair, pulling it hard enough to tilt Loki’s head back. He could see the long line of Loki’s neck from behind him, and found it too much to resist. He shifted sharply, pulling Loki up closer and sank his teeth into the hard muscle on the side of Loki’s neck. Loki all but screamed and shuddered into what was certainly a new climax.

Fandral moved his arm back down to hold onto Loki, driving into him with everything. He could feel Loki trembling beneath him, spent and exhausted and still rock hard. Fandral felt his own climax coming and hooked his hand behind Loki’s knot, tugging against it with each of his own thrusts. He came undone, spilling his own seed and all but collapsing on top of Loki as every ounce of energy suddenly drained away. He barely managed to fall over onto his side, laughing quietly as Loki didn’t even get that far, and stayed face-down on his stomach. They lay next to one another in a silence only broken by their panting, slowly coming back to themselves.

“Are you done?” Loki asked finally.

Fandral scoffed incredulously. “Are you serious? You are impossible to keep up with, you know that?”

Loki moved like he meant to roll over, but only pushed his hand between himself and the mattress. It wasn’t until another little whine escaped Loki’s throat that Fandral realised he still wasn’t done.

“Impossible,” he lamented.

“You were meant to be apologising,” Loki said

Fandral shook his head, knowing for certain that Loki had planned this deliberately. “Let a man breathe. I’ve slain dragons that took less energy than it takes to please your royal highness.”

Loki chuckled and whimpered all at once. “Then you need to find better dragons.”

Fandral looked askance at him, not sure if he wanted to take that as a jest or not. Instead, he picked up one of the pillows and dropped it on Loki.

“Go to sleep, Loki,” he said, rolling over onto his back. “I’ll finish apologising later.”

Loki hummed. “You better.”

Fandral chose to ignore that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you want it, you can always find my contact info and schedules for current WIPs [on my profile](http://archiveofourown.org/users/LokiOfSassgaard/profile).


End file.
